The White Ribbon. "For God, and Home, and Humanity" WELLINGTON, JULY 1, 1946 A HUMAN EXTINGUISHER

White Ribbon, Volume 18, Issue 6, 1 July 1946, Page 4

The White Ribbon. "For God, and Home, and Humanity" WELLINGTON, JULY 1, 1946 A HUMAN EXTINGUISHER

Slic came into my office today. L T gb! She has wealth, education, social position, and—many a beggar is more to be envied. *

Her opening remark was an extinguisher: “How car. you work in such sordid surroundings?” she asked. "1 should simply die.” Xow, my office is neither better nor worse than a thousand others in the city; but she only saw what she brought with her. and. apparently, that was sordid. I asked about her health “Oh, I shall never be well. I’m sure of that," she added.

I then asked how her husband was. “Oh, he’s most difficult, most trying. If e\er I want to he out, that mar wants to be in, and if I want to be in. he wants to be out.” , I think you and 1, too, would want to be out when she was in, and in when she was out, if the hates had been unkind enough to tie us for life to an extinguisher.

“How’ is your son’” 1 asked next. “Oh, he’s wanting to study medicine and I’ve told him it’s ridiculous He’ll never*get through a five-year course: he’ll get tired of it and throw it up, so what’s the use of beginning? I’ve warned his father not to encourage him.” Poor chap, to have an extinguisher for a mother.

Anxious to change the subject, “Well, what do you think about the political situation,” 1 asked “It’s all one to me. I’m not interested. I'm sure they're all making as much as they can at the game.” I then asked her about her other beautiful children.

“Oh, they’re all right, but their mother is a nasty little cat. I never could stand her. I’ve told my son so many and many a time.” Doubtless

she had. That’s the way with the discourager. She always tells. “How* can that be’” I asked. “Isn’t she bringing her children up excellently?” “Well, I shouldn’t say so,” she replied. “Little J— is the best of them. She’s very like our family. She takes after me.” Heaven forbid that the winsome little girl I remember should ever “take after” the family extinguisher. “I believe your husband is taking over larger responsibilities," I ventured. “Oh, yes; but not with my approval. I’ve told him how’ foolish he is; and he knows I don’t approve.” Wondering why she had called, I asked her whether she would join a committee which is doing wonderful work for homeless children. “No, my dear, no! Those women on committees never do any good. They arc all on the make.” When I expressed resentment at this statement, she said: “Oh, well, if they’re not. they’re just after the limelight, and it amounts to the same thing. I’ve no sympathy with organised charity. That I do, I do privately.” And she might have added, “And that is nrcciselv nothing.”

My patience was becoming visibly extinguished, and she rose to go, but. with her hfmd on the door, said in sepulchral tones: “You are looking terribly overdone. You’ll be ; n hospital soon, with nobody to blame but voursclf.”

She went; and I thought, “There goes one whom the world calls rich, yet she is poorer than a beggar; more to be pitied than she who begs her daily bread; a human extinguish! r, whose chief claim to be remembered will be that she quenched hope, discouraged aspiration, and extinguished ambition in tnanv hearts, minds and lives.” My room and my heart felt the better for her going. —M. Preston Stanley, in the “Sydney Morning Herald ”